


Take me Apart, Put me Together

by Remor, soullesskitten



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bloodplay, Breathplay, Dubious Consent, Implied Rape/NonCon, M/M, Pain, Painplay, handjob, kinda.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9556850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remor/pseuds/Remor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soullesskitten/pseuds/soullesskitten
Summary: "You can't move forward without the pain."Pain is an integral part of Ciel. It is a part of him he chooses again and again, pulls so close it suffocates him. It is what makes him, and he needs it. He needs the reminder of who he is, why he is, where and to whom he belongs to. What kind ofdemonbutler could deny his master that which he needs so badly? That's what butlers are for, after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been working on for probably longer then necessary, in part to express my own experiences and what I feel is an important overlooked part of the character and story. It was edited by my monster, Remor.

Rain pattered against the window, the sky outside growing dark. I sat at my desk finishing the last of my work that night, trying not to pay much attention to the large stack of unfinished work to the left. All day I had been distant, phasing in and out, a ghost out of place. Unsure where it was that my thoughts were actually drifting to, only sure it was unpleasant in nature.

A silent dread hung over me. Thoughts and memories of days that felt so long ago. I didn't hide from these thoughts, unpleasant as they were. Rather they felt too distant, too still, dreamlike. The very walls around me seemed never to have been scorched. I felt uneasy. Things were too normal, too calm. Too fake. 

Despite myself, I gripped at thoughts and feelings, but nothing stuck. I felt numb. I recalled the cold bottom of the cage, the bruises on my filthy skin, aches in my broken body. The despairing screams of other children. My hands clenched, but I was not satisfied. I felt a spark of anger, but anger wasn’t what I was reaching for, was it?

Life had been calm at the manor, or as close as it could get to such a thing. It was a quiet time, and I was thankful. Work for the Queen would take all of my energy. Getting out of bed was a challenge in itself most days, made slightly easier by the sweet scent of tea and freshly made scones. Yet, I was restless. 

I stared blankly into the empty tea cup on my desk, listening to the rain hit the window, frustrated with myself, not even sure why. Ridiculous. 

The door was silent, but I knew it had opened. I could feel his presence seeping into the room. I looked up quickly, then scolded myself internally for showing my unease. I was expecting a snide remark, for him to tease me, but he stayed silent. He approached me slowly, and I noticed then the change in his demeanor. 

The eerie silence and the penetrating gaze. I felt a shiver run through me.

He came to the edge of my desk and stared down at me, unwavering. I caught myself looking up at him in awe and surprise, then decided I would not be having any more unsettling feelings if I could help it. And I certainly would not let them stun me while my butler tried to toy with me. Whatever game he was playing, he would not win.

I glared. “What is it you want?” I asked sharply, accusingly. 

He stared longer still, and his eyes bored through me. Was he trying to intimidate me? I stood and stared back harder. 

“Well, out with it!” I said, louder. I hoped the previous unease did not come through in my voice, but his eyes narrowed and I was sure it did not matter either way. The slight slit in his pupils made my breath hitch, and I gasped as my arm was seized roughly, painfully. 

He pulled me around my desk. My foot caught on a leg, and I fell hard against him. He did not budge, his hands gripped my back, holding me to him. I felt a sinking weight inside, and slowly I looked up to see his eyes fixed on me, crimson beginning to glow. I swallowed. 

I didn’t speak. The only sound in the room was my breath, too heavy for my liking, and the rain. A gloved hand slowly rose to stroke my hair, and I flinched. 

“...My Lord.” His voice came. His words weaved through the silence and between the pattering of rain. Detached, yet everywhere. “Are you in need of assistance?”

Assistance? I felt confusion and then anger surge in me. Still, I found words wouldn’t come. I opened my mouth to speak, and all that came was a small croak in my throat. It was only Sebastian, but there was an oppressive air surrounding me, a primal fear surging within me, and I knew it could only be his demonic nature, revealing itself once again.

The glow in his eyes faded softly, deliberately. He hoisted me up in his arms effortlessly. My forearm hurt, and the sudden movement made me gasp under my breath. A pang in my chest. I felt this before, as I had been grabbed and dragged, to the cage, to the altar, into the sweaty arms of disgusting pigs. I shivered, a turn in my stomach, and felt myself leaning closer into the chest I was held against. I was with Sebastian now.

Before I realized it, I was let down onto my bed, the room dark but for his glowing eyes and slitted pupils.

“Sebastian,” I managed, I tried to sound assertive. I felt myself shrinking back, and a churning in my stomach. His lips parted slightly to reveal his sharp white fangs. My fists clenched.

He cocked his head slightly, his hair falling to the side in that perfectly infuriating way. “My lord?” His voice was deep, unusual. His own, but different. It reminded me of the demon that had appeared before me before those forsaken iron bars. A shapeless sound that penetrated and hung in the air around me. I found words would not come again, and I did not try. 

He removed his tailcoat and I watched in silence, defiant, yet fearing what might come. A primal excitement tingling in my skin. It was Sebastian, my butler and protector, I was safe - more or less - but beneath was always something more, something that felt true, and terrifying. Knowing he was under my control, but knowing just how little I could comprehend him. I waited.

He turned to me, unbuttoning his vest, letting it drop softly to the floor. Doing the same with his gloves. Then he was on me.

Before I had time to prepare, his bare hand seized my throat, pushing me flat against the bed, knocking air out of my lungs. His face was inches from mine, and his eyes were wide with excitement, glowing bright fuchsia. Watching me like prey in his grasp. His hand tightened and the shock lessened, I gripped his wrist with both my hands and tried to pull him off my throat, but it was futile; pathetic. I glared up at him, despite the primal terror growing inside.

I struggled for breath, panic setting in. His grip was as unwavering as his eyes. I stared back, as my eyes turned glassy, mouth open and gasping fruitlessly. With the other hand he pulled my eyepatch from my face, casting it off to the side. 

Things were beginning to feel strange, distant. A noise in my head blocking all others. Why was he doing this? Still it felt all too real and expected, the only thing that made any sense. I chose to trust the rules of this game; it was my only option to trust them. He would not kill me, though my body felt otherwise, my hands growing weak and falling to my sides. My nails had left small bloody crescents in his wrist and forearm. I noticed these as I felt my grip on reality slipping as well, fading, and just as the world blurred and began to turn to black - air flooded my lungs, my throat free.

I gasped, my lungs aching. My small body heaved. I wondered if the asthma would kick in.

When I looked up at the monster who had just brought me to the brink of unconsciousness, I saw that he was grinning, a soft smile, but viciously taunting. His eyes were softer, but still they glowed. I felt my hatred for him surge.

“Did my young master enjoy?” It took a second for the words to sink in. Then the anger was all encompassing. I shook and brought myself up to my knees, gripping the sheets painfully. “My, you act as if you don’t like it - and yet you practically beg for it, my Lord.”

Beg? Me? And for this? I met his eyes and glared furiously. “Just when did I do such a thing as foolish as that? And why are you toying with your master this way, you awful excuse for a servant?”

He laughed a low, dark laugh, and despite myself I shuddered.

“What a cruel young master indeed… I am only doing my job and meeting your needs. Unbeknownst to you as they may be.” Before I could think of what to spit back at him, he leaned in close to me, his hand gently touching between my shoulderblades, and his breath warm against my cheek. I sat stiff, I had not quite forgotten what he had just done. A part of me I hated cowered at the thought of receiving it again. An old, familiar feeling.

I hissed in as his hot tongue slid over my ear, tracing its curves. “Have you forgotten already? What a short memory indeed. Though just as well - you will not need it long.” I kept still and tense, burning inside with anger, as if that would protect myself from the monster beside me. “All day my young Lord has been off, indeed quite often these last few days… You may not know what it takes to set you right, but I do. Your needs call to me. You need to hurt, you need to fear. You need to be reminded why you’re here and what made you call upon damnation.” His hand stroked down my back and his hot breath stilled on my ear. “And I will give you just that, my Lord. Nothing less.”

It wasn’t over. I swallowed and my confidence shriveled inside me. How awful that he could strip me down so easily. Tear me down, build me up, all to knock me back down again. Toying with me, back and forth between extremes, like a cat with a mouse. Oh, I hated him.

The same hand that gripped my neck wrapped painfully around my wrists, pulling them up over my head. I let out a cry at the sudden pain. It felt as though my wrists were being crushed, and I withered against the sheets, glaring up at hell.

He chuckled softly, and I stared up at the dark creature looming over me. His eyes were soft but they held so much desire, so much cruelty. His face lowered and his lips pressed so gently to mine that a part of me longed for more. Then his tongue slid over my cheek and down my neck, and there he stopped. Much to my displeasure, I tingled with anticipation, and with fear. His hot breath lingered and in a moment, sharp fangs had clamped down hard on my neck, penetrating my skin. 

I did my best not to give in to the desire to scream, not to give him shameful cries, but I couldn’t prevent the pained groan that followed that piercing bite.

My chest heaved. I felt his free hand glide over my ribs. His fingers tapped and slid on them gently, rubbing the creases between the bones, feeling them out individually. I could hardly focus on that with his jaw clenching so tight on my flesh. I tried to adjust my neck, but any movement burned with pain. He growled softly, and I felt his tongue pressing against the bloodied flesh engulfed by his mouth. A small moan escaped him and I felt the slightest shudder. 

He let up and looked down at me, giving my wrists a painful twist as he did so. Consumed with desire. Tears had already involuntarily started down my cheeks, blood started to pool at the back of my neck. The pain obstructed my focus, but still my gaze could not leave his glowing orbs in the dark. 

“My young master is so very delicious…,” he said, licking his lips. “I can hardly wait to have the full course. But for now I am happy to sample as much as I can.” He grinned. 

Oh, how I hated him.

His grip left my swollen wrists, and I let out a small cry of relief. Before I had time to savour the freedom in my arms, my clothes were being pulled off me, and I protested with a surprised cry. It hardly mattered. It was all ripped from me so suddenly I was sure they were torn beyond repair. I barely had time to think before that grip slammed back onto my wrists, clamping tight around them and twisting, and I cried out this time with pain, defeated again. How dare he.

His mouth was on me again, his tongue sliding over my neck, the bite, - I winced and tensed horribly - and then down over my chest. I felt the sharp edge of his canines and was ready for a horrible, searing pain, but this time he was slightly merciful. 

It hurt and I groaned, but little blood flowed out into his mouth, and he quickly licked me clean. Then he moved on, leaving bites all over my chest, sinking his teeth particularly roughly into the soft flesh of my breast, and pulling as if I were meat. He licked over the sensitive mound there, making me shiver, and with his free hand he fingered and clawed at the other. Claws, oh.

I shuddered with a new sense of dread. It felt like an eternity since I had seen those claws, the day he shook my hand. I closed my eyes tight. Feeling them was enough. 

Then his claws dug into me and I gasped, arching my back under him. He chuckled softly, kissing my other nipple and giving it a hard pull with his teeth. I was withering in his grip, a little thing to poke and prod and hurt. I despised such weakness with all my being.

Long claws slid down my rib cage and over my soft stomach and hips, so sharp they left ribbons of hot red. Indeed, so sharp they barely hurt as they cut, but left a stinging ache in their wake. His mouth followed, leaving kisses and bites running down my torso, tongue lapping up blood. His fingers traced gentle circles over my stomach, rubbing over all the small aching bites he had left. Everywhere was pain, some places worse than others, but it ached all over. 

“Open your eyes little one,” he said gently. As if I wasn’t suffering beneath him. “Show me those pretty eyes filled with despair. Show me where I’ve marked you.” 

He caressed my crotch and I tensed horribly with the realization. I fought hard against the restraint of his grip. My eyes shot open, a new vigor in my fury, a new resolve to escape him. To which I felt his grip tighten violently, forcing my arms back. He smiled a wide, fanged smile, excitement in his otherworldly eyes. I yelled his name in protest. 

“Oh?” Even his voice spoke in a way to prod me. Every word sculpted just right to wound me. “Did I cross a line?” He mocked, an amused expression on his face, enjoying every second of my discomfort. 

My stomach turned and I kicked at him wildly. Wounds that had begun to fade and turn numb now gushed fresh, bringing a sense of panic, despair and hatred, and worst of all; weakness. Everything seemed to cut into those wounds, dig deeper. The crushing hold on my wrists, the ache and marks all over my body, the hand on my crotch that caressed in slow motions; and the low laugh that my struggle brought forth from him. 

“Yes, fight my little lord. Fight, but know you are fighting me. For I am so much worse than they could ever be.”

And I did. Though my struggle did nothing, he leaned in close to kiss my forehead, staying close to me as he began to stimulate me in a gentle fashion, looking into my eyes with inhuman lust. Grinning at the way I’d jerk and tense and wither, at the pained emotions surging and battling within me. Gentleness did not mean the beast did not savor every moment of my misery. 

I whined and turned my head away, hating this extra layer of vulnerability and how weak I was under him. Hating so much how my body would react when I didn't will it. Fresh tears wetting my cheeks, and he licked them away. Hating him.

“What a stubborn child you are, my Lord.” A soft expression of amusement played across his perfect face. “We both know who is truly in control here, but if you should play the victim... You do a deliciously good job,” he whispered softly in both mock and genuine praise. 

And I am not a victim. But I wasn’t about to admit to his implications - at least, not aloud.

I never stopped hating it. While he touched me in every pleasurable way, whispering lewd and dreadful things into my ear. How I belonged to him, how I begged for his ravishment, how beautiful his cruelty was on my small form. Even while my body began to tense and shake with orgasm, and I cried out from the release, while he sucked my neck and caressed me. 

Then his hand slid downwards and his fingers, claws now gone, rubbed and prodded my entrance gently. So slight against my damp skin, but enough to make my muscles tense, my stomach twist, enough to flood my mind with images, hatred and despair. Teeth clenched around an almost inaudible whimper I could not contain. I was exhausted. 

His fingers played with my hole, as I lay in exhausted hatred and pain, against his firm chest. It was only Sebastian. Lips pressed soft against my forehead, then he released my wrists. I waited to see if there would be more, part of me begged for rest and another waited with eager anticipation. He kissed my head again and again, as he removed his fingers from me and slid his hand comfortingly up my back.

“Soon.” He spoke soft against me. “I will have everything, little one. Every bit of you belongs to me alone.” I felt his hot breath against me. “For now, it is time to rest…” He soothed me with gentle strokes and kisses.

I felt too weak to move, and there was nowhere to go if I could. I could never escape my personal hell. I didn’t want to try. Instead I melted into his embrace as his harsh grip became a comforting hold. This dark embrace was the only comfort, only security I cared for, and I had given myself completely.

He held me close to his chest, stroking my hair and kissing my face all over. Wordless, soothing. Looking at me with an expression somewhere between amusement and gentleness, and fondness. Deep within, I knew he wanted more, that this only scratched the surface of the desires of such an awful creature. It was so easy to slip into him, everything he could give me. I would never say it, but part of me wanted so much more as well. 

I had abandoned one hell for the other. But I had no regret.

“What a troubled child you are, my Lord…” He spoke in a quiet, soothing voice, before kissing between my brow.

Then he lifted me, with gentle and sturdy movements, and I hung limp in his arms like a doll, head against his chest. I only barely registered where I was carried, the sound of water running. Then I was lowered carefully into the warm water, a burning sting erupting in all my wounds.

I didn’t protest as he washed me all over, eyes closed, feeling his hands clean all over my aching flesh. The cuts and areas he had bitten stung, and though he showed no excitement at my discomfort I knew that he must revel in my helplessness. He payed extra attention to the wound on my neck, and I groaned at him for causing it at all. I wondered how we would cover these tomorrow. A familiar situation, clearly intended, I thought. What a disgusting creature.

He left me a short while, to attend to whatever he needed to. And I sat alone in the warm water. Looking down over my frail and wounded body, hell carved into my skin. Hearing again the rain outside. Closing my eyes until he returned and patted me dry, bandaging carefully. Then lifted me once again. I found the warmth of his arms comforting, somehow even more so than usual.

He brought me back to a well made bed that smelled of freshly cleaned linens, and the cart beside my bed showed he had even prepared hot milk and honey. I laughed softly, weakly, as he covered me in the warm crisp sheets. 

“Oh, what is so amusing, my lord?” he asked, smiling and gentle, gloved hands giving my cheek a soft stroke, to which I huffed with annoyance. The perfect butler.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I said with mock amusement. He simply smiled acknowledgingly, the slightest hint of a grin beneath the surface, handing me the teacup filled with warm milk and sweet honey. The feelings within me were familiar. No longer distant or numb. As broken as I felt, I was myself again, clear and purposeful. Right. 

Though, this didn’t make me any happier with the creature.

“Shall I go and attend to other things?” He asked, and before I could think I had gripped his sleeve. I cast my eyes elsewhere.

“Stay.” Was all I said before he nodded, and without waiting for instruction, lay beside me, holding me. I didn’t protest. Instead I found myself nuzzling into his chest, so easy and natural, at least for tonight. At least until the next time he’d make me need his comfort, or something else found me here. He’d broken me once more, so for just this night, hidden in the darkness together, I allowed my weakness.

Without this pain, I am empty. A ghost left to wander ruined halls without its purpose. It is my reason, my goal, and ultimately my end. I fell asleep against his sturdy chest, a gentle hand caressing my back, nose buried in my hair, pain stinging into the night. Where I belonged.


End file.
